Over the River and Through the Woods
by Gridmaster
Summary: Standard shipper fare: Nick and Sara, sent on a far, far out of town case, experience vehicle trouble in a blizzard and end up sharing a room in a mountan inn.


**Over the River and Through the Woods**

The snow was coming down heavier. Nick bumped the windshield wipers up to high, their swishing the only sound in the cabin of the Denali. They'd traveled past the range of the local radio stations about two hours before, and neither of them thought to bring any music with them, so they settled for the silence. He chanced a quick glance over to the passenger seat. Sara had fallen asleep about half an hour after they shut off the radio, the wear and tear from all her double shifts and overtime finally catching up to her.

He smiled, eyes back on the road. The scene they'd been called to was hours away from Las Vegas, way up in the mountains. The weather forecast hadn't said anything about snow when they'd pulled out of the parking lot, just that temperatures were dropping. The first flakes had been greeted with squeals of excitement. Then, when those flakes were joined by their bigger, fluffier buddies, Sara had stopped talking to Nick, entranced by the rapidly-whitening landscapes around them.

Now, she was asleep, and the gentle snowfall seemed to be an honest-to-God March blizzard. He chuckled softly, not wanting to wake Sara, as he remembered something Greg had told him the other day.

"Jennie, the new day shift tech, just moved here from Ohio," Greg had informed him. Nick just raised an eyebrow, wondering where Greg was going with this. "She'd said when she was looking for a new job, she narrowed her choices to here or Tucson, 'cause she wanted to avoid any more St. Patrick's Day blizzards."

"St. Patrick's Day blizzards," Nick had repeated.

"Yup. Said back in Ohio, winter wasn't truly over 'til they had their snowstorm in mid-March."

"Remind me to tease Jennie about bringing the blizzard with her," Nick murmured, eyes on the road.

Without warning, the SUV started to slow down. "What the…?" Nick checked the gas gauge; it read three-quarters full. None of the other gauges were reading errors; no warning lights were on the dash. He maneuvered the Denali to the side of the road where it finally died.

The loss of motion stirred Sara awake. "Mmm….are we there?" she mumbled, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Nope…Denali just died," Nick informed her.

"Out of gas?"

"Nope. No other visible warning signals, either. Just up and died."

"Great…." Sara fumbled her cell phone out of her pocket, flipped it open, and frowned. Nick held his cell phone next to hers, showing the identical "Out of Service Area" message.

"We lost service about an hour after we lost the radio," he told her.

"So, now what?"

"Well, either we sit here, wait for the remaining heat to dissipate from the truck and slowly freeze to death, or…." Nick pulled a small GPS unit out of the armrest. "We can see if there's anything close enough we can walk to."

Sara slumped back in her seat, tucking her useless cell back in her pocket, while Nick fiddled with the GPS unit. "Find anything?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Maybe." Nick turned the unit so she could see the small screen, too. "We're here. Middle of Nowhere, Nevada. About five miles north, there's something called The River Inn."

"Five miles." Sara shot a skeptical look out the window at the still-falling snow. "Walking. In this."

Nick shrugged. "We really don't have another choice, Sar. It's after dark, we've got no cell service, and I haven't seen another car on this road since before you fell asleep."

"Great." Sara stretched, groaned. "Well, let's just hope this River Inn has working phones, heat, and coffee."

"Take your bag," Nick suggested, "but leave your kit. We'll lock up the Denali, and hopefully the department can get a service vehicle out here in the morning."

"A five-mile hike in the snow," Sara grumbled. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Stokes."

* * *

Two hours later, Nick gripping the GPS unit like his life depended on it, they spotted the lights of The River Inn. "Thank God," Sara stammered, teeth chattering. 

Stiffly, they managed to cross the last five-hundred feet to the warm, welcoming inn. To Nick's surprise, it wasn't a run-down, middle-of-nowhere motel. It looked more like an upscale ski lodge, the two-story, log-built building looking almost magical in its mantle of snow. The chilled CSIs entered the inn's lobby; Nick made a beeline for the desk while Sara gravitated towards the large, roaring log fire.

"Oh my! What happened to you?" the startled desk girl exclaimed.

"Truck…broke down…five miles south," Nick stammered. "Need…phone."

"Right, right! Here, you two go sit by the fire; I'll bring you over some towels, some coffee, and the phone. My name's Marla; just holler if you need anything." The efficient girl settled them by the warmth, and proceeded to set about warming them up. They both gratefully accepted the steaming mugs of fragrant coffee, sipping slowly to restore some warmth to their limbs. Wet parkas were hung near the fire; soaked boots were removed and stuffed with paper to keep them from shrinking.

Nick sat as close to Sara as he could, pulling her close with an arm around her shoulders, hoping to radiate some heat in her direction. Marla brought them a stack of warmed towels; Nick set about drying off Sara's hair for her since she was still shivering. As he gently rubbed her damp hair between the warm terrycloth, her eyes closed, head falling back into his hands trustingly. He took longer than was slightly necessary, her little sighs of pleasure making him think less-than-friendly thoughts about his good friend. When Nick felt Sara was warming up, and like he could speak without stuttering again, he went back to the desk to use the phone.

"Are you and your wife warming up?" Marla asked as she brought the phone up to the counter.

"Yes, thank you…and she's not my wife."

"Girlfriend?"

Nick chuckled. "Sara's one of my best friends, and a coworker." He opened his jacket to retrieve his wallet and phone card, exposing his badge.

"You're police?" she asked.

"Criminalist," Nick clarified. "Nick Stokes. Sara and I were on our way to a scene when the truck just up and died."

"Mm. Gotta watch for that in this kind of weather, especially in the mountains. Cold and altitude can do not-nice things to vehicles." Marla stepped back, letting Nick have some privacy for his phone calls.

Sara watched the conversation at the desk, sipping her coffee mulishly. _Leave it to Nick to start flirting,_ she thought, unconsciously shooting the pair a jealous glance over the top of her mug. _She's probably just barely legal. He'd better watch it._

Nick punched in the number on the phone card, then the number for the labs. Judy transferred him to Grissom's office; surprisingly, Grissom picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Griss, it's Nick."

"Nick!" Grissom's voice registered surprise and relief. "What happened? The sheriff at the scene called me over an hour ago to tell me you and Sara hadn't arrived yet."

"Car trouble. We hit a snowstorm in the mountains, and the Denali died. Cell phones were out of range, so Sara and I walked out to the nearest location, The River Inn."

"Are you both all right?"

"Yeah, a little cold, but we're warming up. We're not going to make it out there tonight, though. The snow's getting worse."

"I'll call the sheriff back, let him know what happened, and I'll get the department to send out a service call on the morning. Where's the Denali now?"

Nick gave him the coordinates from the GPS system. "We're about five miles north of the truck."

"Nick, write this down." Grissom repeated a sixteen-digit number over the phone. "That's the department charge account; you and Sara get some rooms there, and the service team will contact you in the morning."

"Great." Nick motioned to Marla, mouthing the words, "What's the phone number here?" She scribbled it down under the numbers he'd written. "Griss, here's the number for The River Inn."

"Thanks, Nicky." Grissom paused for a moment. "Nick, we're just glad you and Sara are okay."

Nick smiled. "Thanks, Griss." He placed the phone back on the cradle.

"Everything okay?" Marla asked.

"Yeah, just had to let my boss know we weren't going to make it out to the scene tonight." Nick ran his hands through his hair. "Guess Sara and I need some rooms."

Marla studied the man standing in front of her. She hadn't missed how tenderly he'd been taking care of the woman he called one of his best friends, nor had she missed the looks Sara kept shooting towards the desk while she'd been chatting with Nick. _Kind of like how Bobby and I were, before everything happened,_ she mused, thinking of her new husband. _All we needed was a little push…._

She pulled up the registration log on the computer. Four empty rooms blinked at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mister Stokes…it looks like there's only one room available." She looked up at him with innocent green eyes. "It's a nice room, though."

Nick smiled a tired smile. "Right now, as long as it has four walls, a roof and a floor, I don't think Sara or I'll complain."

"Great." Marla swiftly entered the information into the computer and produced two keys. "Here, it's the room at the end of the hall, on the left. If you and your friend want to go get settled, I'll send someone down with a room service cart in about half an hour, my treat."

"Thanks again." Nick accepted the keys.

"Any dietary restrictions?"

"Sara's a vegetarian, but I'll eat just about anything."

Marla grinned. "Okay. I know just the thing. Go get settled."

Sara was frowning into her coffee cup when Nick came back. "Hey, Sar. I called Grissom; he's going to take care of the service call and letting the sheriff know what happened." He put his hands over hers on the empty mug. "He also gave me the department charge number so we could get a room."

Sara's eyes met Nick's. "_A_ room?"

"Well, he said rooms, but only one was available." He gave a half-shrug. "We'll figure it out. C'mon, let's go get settled; Marla said she'd send down some room service in half an hour."

Sara let Nick pull her to her feet. They gathered bags, parkas, and boots, and padded down the hall to the room Marla had indicated. Nick opened the door. "Whoa. When she said it was a nice room, she wasn't kidding!"

Sara pushed him through the door, not really noticing the room until the door clicked shut behind them. "Whoa," she echoed.

The room was large, but then, it had to be to accommodate the king-sized bed in the center. To one side was a large whirlpool tub; to another, a log-burning fireplace. Nick and Sara both looked at the bed without trying to actually look at the bed.

"We'd, uh, better change clothes…" Nick suggested, eyes shifting to the fireplace. He set his bag down, hoping something in it would be dry.

"Probably shower, too." Sara's eyes shifted to the whirlpool tub with longing. _What I wouldn't give for a soak…but I can't soak in front of Nick!_ Her traitorous mind shot her an image of soaking in the tub, jets swirling all around her, leaning back against a warm, wet Nick. His groan of disappointment broke through her fantasy. "What?"

He held up his change of clothes. "Apparently, my bag's not snow-proof. It's all soaked."

Alarmed, she dug through her own bag, her groan matching his. "Same here. Great."

"Well, we can hang these up to dry…not sure what to do about now." Nick opened the wardrobe to find some hangers, then turned to Sara with a grin. "We're in luck." He reached in, then tossed something over to Sara.

She caught the bundle of white cloth and shook it out. "Robes," she sighed in pleasure. Nick pulled a second one out of the wardrobe, then proceeded to hang up their spare clothes.

"You want the bathroom?" he asked, holding up his robe. She shook her head; he ducked into the small bathroom to change out of his wet clothes and into the robe. Quickly, she shucked off her own wet clothes and wrapped herself in the thick, lavender-scented terrycloth. A knock at the door startled her.

Opening the door, she found Marla with a cart. Rich, heavenly food smells wafted into the room. "Room service," the girl announced with a grin. Sara stepped back so Marla could wheel the cart in.

"I figured after that hike, you two would be hungry," Marla said, setting up the small table. "This is on me, no charge to you." She snapped open the tablecloth, then set two large covered plates down. "Nick mentioned that you were a vegetarian, so I hope this is okay." She removed the covers, revealing two large helpings of a spinach-cheese lasagna.

"Oh, that smells wonderful." Sara had to work to keep from drooling; the last thing she remembered eating was a stale granola bar from the vending machine an hour before they left Vegas.

"It's one of the chef's specialties." Marla grinned. "The man's a genius with food; it's one of the reasons I married him."

"Oh, you're married?" _And you were still flirting with Nick?_

"Yep. Just over a year now." Marla smiled wistfully. "We were married at the overlook here; spent our wedding night in this very room." She leaned in conspiratorially, girl-to-girl. "I didn't tell your boyfriend when I was checking you in, I didn't want to spook him, but, this is generally used as the Inn's honeymoon suite."

"He's not my boyfriend," Sara replied automatically.

"He's not? Oh, my bad." Marla set two smaller plates on the table, then followed with fresh mugs and glass tumblers. A pitcher of ice water and a fresh carafe of coffee followed. "Crème brulee cheesecake," she said, tapping the small covered dishes. "If you need anything else, the phone has a direct line to the main desk. Just dial one, and you're there."

"Thank you." Sara managed a genuine smile. "We really appreciate this."

"Oh, it's no trouble." Marla started to wheel the cart back out, then turned back. "Just, something to think about? No guy who's 'just a friend' with a girl looks at her the way I saw Nick looking at you back out in the lobby. Things happen for a reason."

Sara watched the girl leave and the door click shut, confusion etched on her face. "Everything okay?" Nick asked, emerging from the bathroom, damp clothes in hand. She turned to see him wrapped in white cotton.

"Um, yeah, everything's fine. Marla just brought dinner." _And some mental images I really don't want to deal with now._

* * *

Nick let the fork fall to the empty plate with a contented sigh. "That was excellent." 

Sara nodded in agreement. "And there's cheesecake."

He groaned. "I think I'm gonna have to save mine for later." He stood, stretching.

Sara couldn't tear her eyes away from how the robe gapped in front, framing a slice of his chest. _Get a grip on yourself, Sidle. It's not like you haven't seen him shirtless before. Just because he's naked under that robe…not going there. You find out you're staying in the honeymoon suite with him and your mind starts going places it shouldn't. This is Nick. Your best friend. You don't screw up friendships like this with sex._ She was so intent on arguing with herself that she missed what Nick had asked her. "Huh?"

He grinned. "Distracted? I asked if you wanted to watch something on television. Kill some time."

"Oh. Television. Sure."

Nick found the remote and perched on the side of the bed, patting the spot next to him.

_It's just like a couch. Only flatter. We've watched TV on the couch together. No big deal._ She sat next to him, indulging in the feeling of being able to stretch out as he flipped the channels.

They settled on a movie they'd both seen before and enjoyed. Before long, though, Sara found her eyelids growing heavy and Nick's shoulder growing comfortable. She dropped back asleep, leaning against his warmth. It wasn't long that he followed her into sleep, despite the explosions in the movie.

Several hours later, Nick startled himself awake. The television was still on, the movie long having given way to late-night infomercials. Tony Little was screaming about his latest fitness device when Nick found the remote and sent the room into blessed silence. He smiled, realizing Sara was still curled around him, her head nestled perfectly into the curve of his shoulder. Doing his best not to disturb her, he scooted them both down flat and pulled the quilt from the foot of the bed over them. He replaced his arms around her, chanced a quick kiss to the top of her head, and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Sara was having a wonderful dream. She and Nick were on their honeymoon, cuddled together in a large, cozy bed. As she drifted to wakefulness, she swore she could still feel his warmth, smell his unique scent. Then she realized that the warmth and the scent were no dream. 

_Oh no…I spent all night cuddled to him like that?_ she thought wildly, realizing her head was pillowed on his shoulder and her arm had snaked under his robe during the night to rest against his bare skin. She tried to move away, set some distance between them, but when she moved, he grumbled sleepily and tightened his own hold on her.

"Nuh-uh," he mumbled, eyes still closed. "_My_ Sara…Greggo can't have her…."

She tried not to giggle. _Apparently Nick's having some interesting dreams, too._ She snuggled back into his warmth. _If he doesn't mind, who am I to mind?_

* * *

The next time they woke, it was to the bedside phone chirping. After a moment of fumbling, trying to disentangle himself from Sara, Nick managed to answer it. "Stokes," he mumbled, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

"Nicky? It's Grissom."

"Oh, hey, Griss. The mechanics on their way?"

Nick could hear Grissom's pause. "There's…well, there's good news and bad news, and I'm not really sure which is which."

"Just…tell?"

"Well, the somewhat good news is, you and Sara don't have to get to that scene today. The police have a suspect in custody with a signed confession."

"So what's the bad news?"

"The snow closed the roads around your area. We won't be able to get a mechanic up to the Denali until the roads are clear."

"So Sara and I are stuck here until…whenever?"

"It seems that way." Nick heard Grissom's deep sigh over the phone. "So, consider this a vacation. I'll argue with Ecklie so you don't lose any vacation time or pay."

"Thanks, Griss." Nick hung up the phone and turned to face a fully-awake Sara.

"What's going on?" she asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Police have a confession on our case, so we're not needed, which is a good thing, since we're snowed in and the department can't get up here to fix the truck."

"Wait, what? Snowed in?"

Nick nodded. "Apparently Jennie brought the St. Patrick's Day blizzard with her, and sent it with us."

"Who's Jennie?"

"New lab tech, day shift, from Ohio. Greg told me about it."

Sara smirked. "Speaking of Greg…since when am I _your_ Sara?"

"Huh?"

"This morning, when I first woke up? I tried to move away, and you said something like, 'No, that's my Sara, Greg can't have her.'"

Nick groaned. "Oh man…."

"And you wouldn't let me go." Sara smirked at Nick's discomfort.

"I didn't, you know, _try_ anything, did I?"

"Other than keeping me close, no, not that I noticed." Sara tried to stifle a yawn. "So, snowed in…now what?"

"Guess we're stuck here until the roads are cleared enough for them to get a mechanic out to the Denali." Nick pushed the quilt off his legs, making sure his robe was tight before getting off the bed. He strode to the window, parting the drapes to look outside. "Damn, it's still coming down out there." He felt Sara's breath on his neck as she stood behind him.

"Wow. It's gorgeous out there." Sara rested her chin on his shoulder, watching the flakes fall on the frosted woods. Her arm snaked around his waist; he linked his fingers with hers. A knock at the door startled them out of their personal reveries.

Nick opened the door, revealing Marla. "Hi…I just came to pick up the trays from last night. Did you sleep well?" she asked, starting to clear the table.

"Yeah, real well." Nick shot a glance over to Sara. "Looks like we're going to be staying a bit."

"Oh, yeah, the roads." Marla grinned. "Well, we're glad to have you. The dining room's opening for breakfast in about half an hour; there's fresh coffee in the lobby if you're interested." She noted the quilt on the bed, and that both Sara and Nick were wrapped in robes, with a measure of satisfaction. The storm stranding them there was another stroke of luck, in her opinion. _If these two haven't admitted their feelings by the time the roads are clear, well, I tried._

"Thanks. We'll probably be out soon."

"Great. We'll see you there." Marla folded up the small table and wheeled the cart out.

Sara had perked up a little at the mention of coffee. "Are the clothes dry yet?" She crossed the room to where Nick had hung their clothing the night before. "I need coffee."

Luckily, the night had dried their clothing enough to be wearable. Sara grabbed up an outfit and changed in the bathroom. Nick was still changing when she emerged.

"You know, I've said it before, but it still holds. Just…fine," she commented, a smirk playing on her lips as she leaned against the bathroom door.

Nick turned towards her, still holding his shirt in his hands. "Yeah, and I've told you before, that's harassment."

"Just stating a fact. And it's not like we're on the clock now." The smirk stayed on her face. "Besides, I could say the same thing, about 'my Sara.'"

"You're not going to let that drop, are you?" To her disappointment, he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Nope." Sara pushed away from the doorframe. "Coffee?"

"At least."

* * *

After breakfast, they returned to the room and watched television for a while. Despite hourly checks, it didn't look like the roads were going to be clear any time soon, and the snow was still falling. 

"I can't take it anymore!" Sara finally cracked. "I need to do _something_. I can't just sit here and wait for the roads to clear." She leapt off the bed and started pacing.

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know! Get out of the room for a little bit, at least."

"Okay. Let's go ask at the desk; maybe there's a trail or something that we can take."

Marla wasn't at the desk. The woman working there had the same green eyes, though, so Nick guessed she was an older sister, possibly a mother.

"Oh, yes, we have several trails around the Inn, some for hiking, and some for cross-country skiing," the woman told them. "We even offer ski rental."

Nick shot Sara one of his raised-eyebrow, "How about it?" looks. She gave a half-shrug. "Cross-country skiing it is."

"Have you ever done this before?" Sara asked as they sat down to buckle their shoes into the skis.

"Mostly in the gym, on a simulator," Nick admitted. "But it's a lot like walking, or just shuffling your feet along." He stood and offered her his hand. "Just remember, you're the one who wanted to get out of the room."

They both caught on to the rhythm of cross-country skiing easily, and soon were gliding across the fresh snow, following the blue blazes marking the path. After half an hour, they emerged from the woods into a wide clearing.

"It's beautiful," Sara breathed, soaking in the pristine snow-covered ground, the trees liberally coated with a blanket of snow. The only sounds were the wind whispering through the woods, her own breath, and Nick's.

"Yeah," Nick agreed, though his gaze wasn't on the surroundings. He was studying Sara's face, her cheeks flushed with cold and exertion, snowflakes caught in her eyelashes. Something in the tone of his voice made her turn.

Longing. That was the only way she could describe how he was looking at her. It wasn't lust, it wasn't heat, it was longing, like he'd been denied something for so long, he thought he would never have it. That look caught at her, stirred something in her chest…a matching longing.

She tried to turn, to face him, but the skis made it awkward. With a small growl, she used the point of her pole to pop the latches on the skis. She couldn't take her eyes off his face, off his eyes. "Nick…" she breathed, her breath warm on his chilled lips.

"Sara," he replied, just as quietly.

She wanted to keep her eyes open, wanted to keep watching his eyes, but the minute her lips brushed against his, they drifted closed. His mouth was gentle, caressing, savoring each sip of her lips. The pressure in her chest increased until she thought she would explode if he didn't kiss her deeper. A small whimper escaped her lips, crushing his resolve as he crushed her tight against him.

The kiss changed, became more possessive on both their parts. Sara felt like her lips were branding him, marking him as hers. The heat of his mouth chased away any lingering chill from the trail. When he pulled away, the sudden wind on her face made her shiver.

When she met his eyes again, the longing had been replaced by something else, something she'd never thought to see in Nick's eyes looking at her: love. She knew the same emotion was shining in her own eyes. "I think I'm ready to go back to the room now," she whispered.

* * *

Sara relaxed back against Nick's warm, wet chest as the vanilla-scented water swirled around them in the whirlpool tub. His arms wrapped around her waist, fingers idly tracing designs on her stomach under the water as he pressed a light kiss against the side of her neck. "Did you know I had a fantasy just like this last night?" Sara smiled as his lips continued their assault on her neck. 

"Oh really?" His left hand moved higher, off her belly. She sighed, leaning back into him, arching a little into his caress.

"Mmhmm…never thought it would come true." She turned her head to meet his mouth in a warm, soft kiss. "Remind me to get Greg to introduce me to Jennie…I think we need to thank her for the blizzard."

Nick's mouth smiled against hers. "I'm never going to look at snow the same way again," he agreed, before letting his right hand drift even lower, eliciting a gasp, then a low moan from Sara.

* * *

Two long, love-filled days later, the roads were finally clear enough for a mechanic to get through to the Denali. Nick and Sara packed their bags and cast a last look at the room they'd spent a good portion of their time in. "I think I'm going to miss this room," Sara murmured, her hand in Nick's. 

"I know I'm going to miss that tub," he agreed, squeezing her hand. "Maybe I should look into getting one of those at home."

"You get one of those, and I'll never leave."

"That's sort of the idea," he whispered, a grin spreading across his face.

At the desk, Marla was at her post. "Leaving already?" she teased.

"Roads are finally clear; we can get home," Nick told her. "Not that we minded staying here, it's just…"

"There's no place like home," Marla finished. She typed a few things into the computer. "There you go, all squared away. Have a safe trip back to Las Vegas." She couldn't help but smile, noticing how Nick took Sara's bag as well as his, and took Sara's hand with his free one. She quickly gathered up a small packet of information, catching up to Sara as Nick was loading the bags into the Denali.

"Here," she said, pressing the information into Sara's hands. "Information about our wedding packages…just in case."

Sara glanced from the paperwork, to Marla, to Nick. A smile started to bloom on her face. "Thanks…we might just be needing these."

"And just so you know, Bobby makes an amazing wedding cake." The young girl shared a womanly smile with Sara. "We hope to see you two back again."

Sara cast a last look over the River Inn. "I hope to be back again."

* * *

_Six Months Later_

Sara clutched her bouquet a little tighter. Nick was waiting at the end of the overlook, the leaves behind him turning scarlet and gold. "You ready for this?" Jim Brass whispered at her side.

She met Nick's eyes, saw the love shining there. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life."

As she walked down the boardwalk to her waiting groom, two figures behind the patio buffet table watched, one with a pair of shining green eyes, the other with a spotless apron and tall chef's hat.

"You've got the knack, Marla," the man whispered, putting his arms around her pregnancy-swollen stomach.

Marla looked up at her husband, love shining in her eyes, fingers lacing with his. "After you and me, Bobby, they were easy." She looked back at the bride and groom, a happy little sigh escaping. "Sometimes, all they need is just a little push."

* * *

_Author's Notes_

I'm not usually one for notes, but I felt I needed some for this one.

I'm from the Southwestern NY/Northwestern PA/Northeastern OH region originally, so I am _quite_ familiar with the concept of St. Patrick's Day blizzards.

I know nothing about Nevada climate and/or topography, so whether or not a blizzard that could strand them at a mountain inn/retreat for several days is possible, I don't know. Suspension of disbelief.

The inn they're staying at is based on two places: Julia's Bed and Breakfast in Hubbard, OH, where I spent my wedding night, and the Clarion River Lodge in Cooks Forest, PA, where I wanted to have my wedding.

Also, if anyone can figure out where I got the name "Marla" for my meddling desk clerk, ten points and a handful of Snickers Minis. :)


End file.
